Dragonborn
by ThousandWordsWritten
Summary: Life had a twisted song to sing, it's melodies flowed with the coming of a hero. A great Nord destined to save the lands and bring peace. But death had a song as well, a low tune that drifted into the corners of Skyrim. A telling of great tragedy in the lands. It was here that life and death harmonized, on the edge of a great land. And the harmony brought a hero, the Dragonborn.QxR
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Anything confusing you? Ask me questions and I'll work the answer into the story. I wouldn't want you to be turned off by the Elder Scrolls vocabulary. That way you don't have to play the game to read the story. I still recommend playing if you have the time, like really have the time. Truth be told I haven't even finished the main quest past (Spoiler?) talking to that friendly dragon on the mountain. (End Spoiler?). There's just too much to do! Besides, this story won't follow the main quest in Skyrim. It'll have it's own quest line. Ok, well, Faberry all the way. Yay...

**Dragonborn**

_"The World-Eater wakes, and the wheel turn upon the Last Dragonborn."  
__-The Book Of The Dragonborn (Prior Emelene Madrin Order of Talos Weynon Priory)_

I had grown up on the outskirts of Skyrim my whole life. My family had no need to travel into it's untamed wilderness. We lived comfortably in the small cottage dotting our small estate hidden in the corner of Falkreath hold, straddling the border between Skyrim and Hammerfell. Great plains had surrounded me my whole life, tampered with cattle and chickens. I was a stranger to Skyrim's towering mountains. It was a simple life, but somewhere along my story I was seduced by adventure. It was an uncontrollable lust that bled into my every fiber. The call of fame had me in it's grasp. I would go about my daily chores wondering of the unexplored rural mountain tops. Of the ruins of past civilizations, rumored to be infested with undead creatures. Of strange oasis hidden in mountain passes. My whole life was revolving around leaving the small cottage and making a name for myself. I, Rachel Berry, was destined for greatness! Or so I thought before my head lay on an execution slab.

I had stumbled upon a Stormcloak camp, and (as I had been lost in the wilderness before hand) they fed me and gave me a place to rest for the night. I was rather surprised by their hospitality. As my luck would have it that same night there was an Imperial ambush on camp. I was mistaken as a Stormcloak and bound. We were all headed to Helgen for our execution.

I was the first one to drop to my knees in front of the execution slab. Around me stood the grim faces of my fellow captors. It wasn't so much that I was going to die, that would come to me sooner or later, but it was the thought that I was to die faceless. My head cradled by the granite, sticky with blood and strangers to witness my demise.

The world had come crashing around my ears, my dreams had been flooded with reality. I knelt before a man that wore a black cloak. His arms flexed with practiced ease as he hefted the axe to his shoulder. I wondered vaguely how he could live with the guilt. Maybe he didn't have to, a faceless men just doing his job. What was there to be guilty of?

And as I was stuck in my musings the world around me suddenly exploded with action. A deep call sounded, and the earth shook in it's power. On top of the ivory tower landed a dragon. My executioner fell to his side as the dragon spoke, his words trembled the land. Almost as if the land spoke back, muffled from the thick crust of earth.

Yol Toor Shul!

The sky revolted in it's wake. I scrambled to my feet as grey clouds twisted and coiled above me. They flashed briefly before molten rocks pelleted the earth. Flame rained down from the sky and the civilians scrambled to their homes.

"What are you doing! Talos has granted us an escape, count your blessings!"

The voice came to me like it had traveled from a great abyss. Far way and foreign. It was one of the Stormcloaks who had been captured with me, I stumbled after the man as he headed shelter in one the watchtowers. The world seemed to slowly bleed back to me. I heard the far off screech of the dragon, and I dove into the archway of the tower. Stair cases spiraled upward, twisting within the cylinder tower like a snake. A man slumped against the walls, propping himself on a chair as blood trickled down his head. He sat there like a crippled dog licking his wounds, I made to help him, my father had taught me minor restoration magic before my voyage. But a sharp tug on my bound arms stopped me.

"We have one chance to escape, and that chance is now." The man who lead me here said.

I nodded and we headed toward the spiralled staircase. Everything seemed strangely fake. The man bleeding to his death didn't seem real, my almost execution didn't feel real. I faltered in my steps and the man turned to me. But before he could speak the wall of the tower exploded inward.

I stumbled back as the head of the dragon butted into the tower. His scaled maw opened and spurred out fire. I felt the heat from the fire wash over me, clinging onto my face as the man pushed me back from the flame. And as fast as the dragon appeared it was gone. Flying into the sky to wreck havoc on the people defending Helgen. The hole that the dragon created smoked briefly before the cooling winds took the black cloud away. The tower had stood among shops and houses. From here I could see a home ten feet down, it's roof missing allowing me a look into it innereds.

"Jump I'll be right behind you!"

I whirled around and looked at him. Was he insane?

"Trust me!"

I didn't trust him, but I narrowed my eyes and turned to the hole. What choice did I have otherwise? A dragon was attacking Helengard, desperate times call for desperate measures. I jumped.

My feet hit the floor and I let my knees take the abuse as I stumbled forward. I was lucky nothing snapped. Pain didn't register at the moment but I knew that fall wasn't good for me. I trotted down the stairs and came into the living room, the front wall was gone. Lumber had been burned from a soft brown to hard black. I stepped out and noticed the efforts of the Imperials. Archers topped the walls that remained, sending flocks of arrows to the dragon. But few archers remained, most a victim to the hellish fire. Soldiers stood their ground, but they had been flung like ragdolls at any chance of melee combat.

"You! Nord! Stay close if you want to survive."

I snapped to attention as a man commanded the townspeople to stay indoors. I remembered him as the man who objected my execution, however briefly. As I was unloaded from the cart he had told the commander that I wasn't on the list of known Stormcloaks. The commander disregarded him. Obviously. But I appreciated his sympathy.

"Follow me." He said.

I stole a glance over my shoulder to look for the other man, the Stormcloak. He was nowhere to be seen.

"What are you doing Nord? Do you wish to be burnt to a crisp?" He called out.

He sped off and I followed closely behind. He paused briefly against a wall and braced himself against it.

"This is hopeless, we need to get out of here." He mumbled. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me, but before I could ask he grabbed my arm in a vice grip and jerked me over to him. The wall suddenly shuddered, and fire rained down before me. I was once again bathed in heat, the flames licked down onto the charred ground as the dragon roared and took off leaving a gust of wind to rush over us.

"Stay close to the wall!"

Nice timing, couldn't have told me earlier? I thought dryly. He tugged me after him, his free hand held a sword tightly as he lead us through the settlement. Most of the town lay in ruins, and the only people out were actively trying to kill the dragon. Smoke curled up into the sky, and the distant screech of the dragon could be heard. They sky had been cleared of it's earlier anger, sunlight rained down despite the morbid conditions of Helengard. The imperial man had let me go and he ran across to a door. He tried it and it popped open.

"C'mere!" He yelled out.

"No! Come here fellow Nord." I blinked as the Stormcloak from before ran past me and opened a separate door.

I hesitated at the choice, but finally I ran to the Imperial. My gut didn't trust the Stormcloak. He was already in the building and I entered the dim room.

In here the sounds of pillage were completely gone, but the smell of smoke still clung to me.

"These are the guards barracks."

I looked around, beds lined the left wall each had a rich red cover like small squares of blood. Lanterns were sporadically placed, and the place was disorganized in the only way men could have it. Shields lay against the walls and swords rested atop tables glinting among the lantern light. Wines and potions were spread out on shelves with the occasional book.

I jumped slightly as the Imperial grabbed my hands, he swiped a dagger from a tabletop and with a quick swing I was lose. I looked up at him, finally noticing what he looked like. He was young, about my age. I wrinkled my nose at his hair, it was odd. I mop of hair running down his head, shaved at the sides.

"Grab what you need, my men would want you to have it." He said in a grave voice. I realized that those soldiers out there were his charge, his responsibility. And he had failed every single one of them.

"I'm sorry." I said.

His eyes focused on mine for a moment before he nodded and looked away.

"Get some armor, they're in the chest. I'm sure at least one of my soldiers were as small as you..." His voice died toward the end and he turned away from me to hide his grief.

I nodded, even though he wasn't looking at me. I opened the hide chest and shuffled through until I found the smallest leather chap.

"Here, put on the leather and then this tunic." He held out a cream colored shirt, I frowned slightly but took it from him. The tunic and leather armour made me look me more masculine than I would want to. It hid whatever curves I managed to developed, and broadened my shoulders. But I suppose it's better than the latter, dirty soot covered rags. Ew.

"You can wear these slacks. They're pretty tight, shouldn't be loose in the crotch." He handed me a pair of tan pants from one of the hide chest at the foot of the beds.

"Gross." I said as I put the pants on over my rags. He chuckled and went off to the weapons rack.

"Sword or mace?" He held each in different hands.

"Neither. I don't condone violence. " I crossed my arms in front of my chest, it was one thing to leave a man bleeding. But to have their blood on my conscience?

The man studied me, his grey eyes seemed colder and distant. Maybe someday a long time ago he was just like me, but I suppose Skyrim changes you.

"Look, there are dangers ahead. Take one, just in case."

I sighed and grabbed a large sword leaning against one of the crimson beds. The sword was a dull iron, it's weight felt heavy and awkward in my hands. The hilt had worn out leather wrapped around it, my finger brushed up the loose strap at the end and I found a name etched on the iron.

Tim Fabray.

Huh.

"Are you ready?" He stood by the door, his own sword gripped in his hand.

"No." I said and he pushed the door open.

XXXX

We walked in silence, the corridor snaked down deep into the world. Hidden from the problems above ground, yet we couldn't escape the fear that clawed at us with each shadow.

"I hear something." He whispered as we neared a corner. He took out his sword, balanced with ease in his a yell he darted around and I jumped to follow.

He met the battle with the powerness of a dozen Nords, his strikes were strong and transitioned perfectly into a block. He danced away from his enemy, his single arm defending him from two opponents. It was a lethal dance, and I had no intention of joining. His final strokes on his enemies reminded me of when my father would finish a letter, with flourished strokes and over exaggerated movement. Like he was writing for the king.

"Why didn't you help?" He grunted as he wiped down his sword. Could blood rust a sword? It wouldn't be fitting.

"I don't know how to, besides I don't participate in such violence."

He straightened up and held out his hand.

"Give me your sword."

I frowned at the command but gave it to him none the less. Wouldn't want to anger a man with that kind of command over his sword.

"This is a great sword, kind of big and heavy for such a little lady. But you choose it, heaven knows why." He wielded my sword, his wrist twisted and coiled at the practice strikes. It was all controlled in the wrist but the weight rested on his arms.

"Grip it with two hands. Use it at an angle, strike in an angle, block in an angle. Horizontal and diagonal are too unstable to take or give a hit. Use your weight to block but not to strike. Understood?"

"Yes." I rolled my eyes, it's not like I would ever use it.

He handed my sword back and we stepped over the dead men. The corridor slowly evened out, and I slowed my steps as we neared the end. A door lay resting, slightly ajar. He paused at the crack and crouched down to peep into it.

"It's all clear." He said and pushed the door open. He stepped into the room.

Blue tendrils shot out at him, he jerked and fell to his knees as blue electricity raked his body like a dozen striking snakes.

Time seemed to slow down as I ran to the doorway. A mage held his hands out, the source of the electricity. Everything felt hyper realistic, the imperial jerking and writhing at my feet, the musty smell of the room, and the warmth of the hilt leather of my sword. Everything was dimming around me, a veil pulled over my head. Muffling my thoughts. I was in a spell that coaxed me. That seduced me to action. I sprang forward, my sword gripped in a vice grip. My movements were calculated, my muscles contracted and reacted on foreign memory. I wasn't thinking, just doing. The veil was suddenly torn from me as iron bit into warm flesh. As blood spilled onto the floor, and the iron of my sword stained.

The mage lay dead at my feet, I struggled to find an emotion. I watched as dark crimson ran down my sword to mingle with the other blood splatters.

With a neurotic madness I shot back, scrubbing the crimson off my sword with the dirty rags I grabbed blindly. The iron glowed with my polishing (swirls of crimson still present), reflecting back my wide stair. I felt it, this was the first time we had bit into a life. We as in me and the sword, the sin was ours to share. We shared the strange relation, my life- my sanity- was melted into the iron. The room spun, I gripped the blade's flat end to my chest. Slowly I crumbled to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the man approached me. What was he sorry for? The words didn't connect, they floated in my mind.

"But thank you." He gently propped me on my feet, and my balanced wavered as he smoothed down his hair. The words clicked and I nodded numbly, I would rather lose my innocence than watch the life of a man seep out before me.

I looked around, avoiding the dead gaze of the mage. The torture room. It seemed fitting. How many lives had been lost here? The mage was just another spot on the leopard. Cages hung from the roof, torture devices lined the walls. Old dried up blood soaked the once grey floor. Ugly rust colored spots.

And amiss of all the sadist sat a book, untouched and clean. Like a sacred shrine. I picked the book up, the cover was smooth and embroidered by tight silver stitches depicting the symbol of Skyrim. A dragon, how ironic.

_The Book of The Dragonborn._

I flipped the book opened and skimmed through the confusing jargon, words popped out at me- floating in front of my eyes. But my searching gaze snagged on a single sentence.

_'The Nords tell tales of Dragonborn heroes who were great dragonslayers, able to steal the power of the dragons they killed'._

"Maybe we could find the Dragonborn?" I said and looked up at the Imperial. He chuckled and took the book from my grasp.

"The Dragonborn is nothing but a myth, folklore and legend spun by mothers to calm a child to sleep." He said and carelessly tossed the book to the ground. It hit the blood stained ground and I was reminded of my own tainted innocence.

"But the dragon? Myths don't burn down villages..." I said carefully and picked up a stack of coins from a small wooden stool. It wasn't stealing if they were dead, right? Right.

"And I don't expect a myth to save us either Nord." He shot back.

"Rachel." I huffed.

"What?"

"My name's Rachel, not Nord. And you should show some respect in the presence of a lady."

"You don't look like much of a lady." He grabbed one of the shields hooked onto the wall and held it out to me, the metal beamed back a grimy reflection of me.

On one side my hair had been burned up to my jaw. The opposite side limped down, untouched but dirty.

"You may want to even that out. Here I'll do it for you!" He tossed the shield aside and advanced on me with a dagger. A smile toyed on his lips but the humor was lost on me.

"No, no, no, no, no!" I gripped his wrist, and shook my head.

"Trust me. I wouldn't let the women who saved my life look hideous." He chuckled at his own statement. Fuck him, but I couldn't go around like this. I needed to cut it. I nodded and dropped my hand, I suppose it was just another thing changed about me.

"There you go! Don't worry, I'm sure in a past life I was a servant. My men have told me I give them cuts like kings!" He slowly went around me, sawing off the burnt ends of my hair and cutting them to the same length. Hair dropped to the floor and I grimaced at what a mess this room was.

"We should get going…" I sighed.

"Don't you want to see your new hair?" He sounded almost disappointed.

"Later, I just want to get out of here."

"Very well, but now I expect you to fight by my side. Can you do that without freaking out?" He gripped my shoulders and swiveled me to look at him.

"I'll try." Killed one life, what's a few more?

"Good man!" He patted me roughly and bounded to the tunnel leading away. I followed but stole a wary glance behind me. The room seemed to taunt me with it's silence, but I pulled away from it when I heard the distant sounds of sword against sword.

XXXX

The earlier trance that had captivated me, that had numbed me to the brutality of fighting, was gone. There was no veil over my head, nothing muffled my thoughts, and my muscles were awkward and unyielding. But I had found the simple pattern that was fighting, my lack of skill was made up by my abundance of thought. For every swing there was a counter swing, for every block there was a swing. It was survival, and I barely kept my headed above water.

The imperial stroked down the final archer, the same flourish he used for every stroke. I had to admit I was a little jealous.

"You know for a beginner you're really good." He said as he stripped the archer of his bow and arrows.

"What were you doing in Helgen?" I asked. We neared the open mouth of a cave, we walked into it. Granite walkways slowly transformed into untamed earth. Moss hung down, brushing our shoulders, and the air significantly cooled.

"I was sent by my jarl, we had received word that Sam Stormcloak was captured and sent to be executed at Helgen."

"Sam?"

"Yeah, what rock have you been living under? He caused the civil war that's been tearing apart Skyrim. He brought war to our lands."

"I didn't live under a rock! I was just never told about the politics in Skyrim."

"Well you choose a bad time to come out of your shell Rachel. Sam killed the king, challenged him to battle and shouted him apart."

"Shouted?" I paused and looked at him skeptically. Was this another one of his ill humored jokes?

"Yeah, shouted. I'm serious." He motioned for me to draw near. Warily I closed in and he pointed across the cave to a lumbering mass of fur.

"A bear, we could sneak past it."

I nodded eagerly. This was his first sane plan, there's hope for him yet.

"Or we could ATTACK!" He sprung off at a full sprint toward the bear. I stood with my mouth slightly agape but dashed to him when I heard the roar of the bear.

The thing reared back, his teeth glowed white amiss the brown of his fur. The imperial grunted as the bear closed his jaws around his iron clad arm. He twisted and I saw my opening, with a lunge I buried my sword into the bear. It let go of the imperial and staggered away from me, before collapsing into a heap. I grabbed my sword and pulled it out of the bear, sticky blood coated it and I wrinkled my nose.

"Hahaha! The rush of battle! C'mon let's get out of here." He chuckled and I noticed that he held his arm tightly.

"Are you ok?" I withdrew my sword, and took his arm.

"Eh, it's just a scratch." He shrugged and winced when I applied pressure.

"You're an idiot." I mumbled, warmth flowed through my hands as I summoned my magic. My hands glowed a vanilla white, and I covered his wound. I pulled away when my hands suddenly grew cold, signifying I was done. I pulled back, and wiped the blood off my hands.

"Eh, but this idiot survived a dragon attack."

"Whatever."

We neared the mouth of the cave, and I squinted as I peered into the snowy white of Skyrim. Everything looked so clean, the snow fell in languid flakes, the land was draped in white. It was a drastic contrast to the dim lighting in the cave, out here I could almost forget the blood staining my imperial brushed past me, tugging me with a hand on my shoulder. We crouched behind a crop of rocks at the foot of cave and watched the skies warily.

I saw the long coiled body of the dragon swimming through the air, strange how I owed the creature my life.

"It's gone, heading to the north... We should be safe. For now anyway." He straightened up and held out his hand. "I'm Puck by the way."

"Nice to meet you Puck." I shook his hand.

"I have an uncle who doesn't live too far from here, lives in Riverwood actually. We should head there to rest, it's the least I could do."

"That sounds good."

We trudged through the snow to the weather beaten path Puck lead me to. As my boots touched the slick cobbles I couldn't help but glance up to the smoky remains of Helgen. Smoke billowed up, most of the towers were collapsed in on themselves like they couldn't stand the burden of their own weight.

I hoped for the sake of Skyrim that the Dragonborn wasn't a myth.

XXXX

Completed Quest: Unbound.

Started Quest: Before The Storm.

**Level Up!**

Nord (Female)

Stone: Warrior

Level 3

Magica: 100

Health: 120

Stamina:110

New Perks:

Barbarian (1)-Two Handed weapons do 20% more damage.

Agile Defender (1)- Increases armor rating for light armor by 20%.

Skills:

Heavy Armor 15

Smithing 15

Block 23

Two Handed 27

One Handed 20

Archery 15

Light Armor 23

Sneak 15

Lockpicking 15

Pickpocket 15

Speech 20

Alchemy 15

Illusion 15

Conjuration 15

Destruction 15

Restoration 19

Alteration 15

Enchanting 15

Race Power:

Battle Cry- Nearby enemies are frightened for 30 seconds.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Anybody interested in beta-ing? No experience needed, but beta-ing this on my own really saps my energy.

**Dragonborn**

_"__Most accounts hold that Olaf, perhaps frustrated that his weapons are completely ineffectual against the dragon, finally casts them aside. Giving voice to the rage that has been building within him, Olaf unleashes a terrible shout."_

-Olaf and the Dragon (Adonato Leonetti)

The fire gently wafted at my cool cheeks. Night had fallen and I couldn't help but worry about the shadows lurking Skyrim. Twisted darkness that jerked and groaned, white fangs gleaming as taut muscles flexed. Dark fur dotting it's body. I had heard stories whispered to me by my father in the gentle hum of the nights at home. Stories of great Nords with darkness clouding their hearts, blood tainted with the blood of a beast, and tugged like puppets by their blood lust. It was these stories that prompted me to venture out into Skyrim. To find out were exactly it was that lore broke from myth. Where the mystical creatures came to life and danced, free of the hyperbole of writing's craft. I wished for adventure, and I suppose adventure I got. A dragon completely destroying a city, my execution, and the loss of all personal belongings. Maybe I what I wished for wasn't what I wanted, but I couldn't go home like this- broken, weak, and scared of shadows in the night sky. A frown twitched on my lips when I recalled the day of my departure.

The sun had finally broken out on the horizon, warm rays creeped into the barn. Off in the distance I heard the waking caw of our rooster. A touch of everyday life, I would wake at that point, do my chores, and if free time allowed I would take up my scroll and write. Every single day the world revolved on the axis of the farm, my gravity not pulling me far before I snapped back like a bent stick. I would write stories of heros, mages, and long forgotten tombs. I would write of adventure, of a voyage, but I had neither of those. At some point the farm I lived on wasn't enough, things had fallen into such a steady rhythm. A cycle that I woke to everyday, the world was full of cycles but I didn't want this one. I didn't want to grow old without tasting what I had always dreamed about.

_"You're really doing it ay?" _

_I gave my father a sad smile, he loved me. There was no doubt about that, but he didn't really believe in me. I couldn't blame him, and a small part of me wanted to see if I could prove him wrong._

_"I need to Pa." I whispered and took his hand. It was rugged and hard, but deep in the bones I could still feel the warmth from his love. Under that hard facade he was a tender soul, but growing up he never let it show much. Especial after mom died. _

_"I only have you left Rachel..." His voice sounded defeated, and he cupped my hand. I saw his eyes shine with unshed tears and I couldn't help but think that this was the most emotion I've seen him display in recent days. His face was usually a stoic mask, even when I would forget to feed the pigs or accidentally burnt our food. _

_"I'm sorry..." I whispered, I had no idea what I could say to him. _

_"Rachel, honey. I know your destined for great things, I can feel it. Don't let anyone bring you down, not even yourself, you are going to be a legend Rachel. You have strength in those skinny arms, you have brains in that absent mind, and you got a soul as fierce as a dragon."_

_I looked up in surprise, his eyes shone with deep pride. I stood straighter and took an unsteady breath._

_"I'll make you proud Pa."_

_"Oh my little dove, you already do..."_

"We should go to Whiterun." I heard Puck whisper out to me from his bed. I shrugged absentminded, my head felt hollow. I couldn't conjure the effort to think about that. I was still stuck in the past with my father.

"He's right," I turned my head slightly as Puck's uncle, Alvor, placed a bowl of stew on my lap. "Riverwood can't defend itself from a dragon attack. You need to convince them to bring us extra guards."

"Why us? Wouldn't a simple messenger do?" I lifted the bowl up carefully and brought it to my lips. The rich taste washed over me, warming parts that I didn't even know were cold.

"You and Puck are the only survivors of the Helgen attack."

"Don't worry uncle. We'll set out as soon as the sun breaks over the horizon, right Rachel?" Puck looked at me for confirmation.

"Ok." I wiped my mouth with my sleeve, and put the now empty bowl down. I normally wouldn't do such barbaric acts, eating without silverware, wiping my mouth with my sleeve. But I was just too tired to chastise myself.

"Rachel's a strange name for a young lad."

I jerked my head to look at him, what's that supposed to mean? It was a perfectly good name, I got it for my birthday.

"Uh, well, yeah. He comes from a wierd part of Skyrim. Rachel's just a nickname, his real name's uh, Rach. Yeah, Rach." Puck quickly said.

I frowned at him and narrowed my eyes. I swear if this was one of his jokes I would personally feed him to the dragon, didn't we go over me being a lady?

"Hah, that would explain your accent too. No offence lad but your voice is as soft as a women's." He chuckled and patted me on my shoulder. I shot Puck a glare when he started to chuckle, and his laugh wilted.

"Yes, well uncle we could use some rest. C'mon on Rach, I'll lead you to our spare bed." He got up and led me to a small room. It was cozy, the bed snug against the wall draped by animal furs and bathed in warm candle light. I sighed and dropped face first on the heavenly surface.

"Hey, sorry about the whole act. But you know how Nords are, if my uncle knew you were a women he wouldn't let you leave Riverwood. You may want to keep the disguise up, I'm sorry but being a women in Skyrim is restraining. I'm sure you know."

"Yeah, I get it." I mumbled into the bed sheets. It was a sad truth, in the bigger settlements it wasn't a problem but once you ventured into the small rural towns any women with a miniscule amount of independance was accused of witchcraft. Well, maybe not to that extent, but keeping the act up would save me any potential trouble. Plus I was too tired to argue about it.

"Ok, but um, can you talk in a deeper voice? You chirp like a bird."

I lifted my head enough to give him a half hearted glare, he just smiled and shrugged.

"Go away." I sighed and got up the adjust my sheets.

"G'night Rach." He chuckled and left.

"Good night." I mumbled and let the lull of fatigue take me.

_The night grew colder from where I sat, I didn't know where I was but a temple rose before me. Dark and looming, I shivered as my eyes caught movement in front of me. My vision seemed to focus in, the temple blurred. Just another black blob in the night. _

_His eyes glowed in the night, reflecting back into the dark abyss of my mind. A pale sickly body jerked at his feet, long blonde hair draped down over the stone tablet it lay on. He smiled, and coaxed the body up with blue vapors of magic. His smile wavered slightly as the body jerked suddenly. Limp arms twisted, elbows bent the wrong way, and it's eyes shone a bright blue. He scrambled back, but his magic never wavered. It climbed slowly to it's feet, a pale face hung hidden in the curtain of blonde hair. It's features twisted, and a small frown etched it's face. He took out a dagger warily, but the creature made no move. His face smiled menacingly as he approached the creature, but as his fingertips brushed it's face it lunged. A choked whimper rang out as blood gurgled from his wound. The creature held him in a lose embrace, lapping up the warm crimson. He crumbled to the floor on his release, and the creature scrambled back. I was reminded of when I had first spilled blood, and her crazed eyes suddenly snapped up to me. I was startled when the temple behind her snapped to focus, everything was defined. The aqua eyes swirled with so much depth, and it-she- let out a choked whisper._

_"Save me."_

Warmth. I gasped as my body was drenched in complete warmth and I tugged the covers off of me. Sweat stuck to me and I sighed when I pulled my tunic and leather off. My dream reached to me from the dark corners of my mind, I shook my head and reminded myself that it was just a dream. Just a dream... I reached into the small pack Puck had handed me when we got to Riverwood. I grabbed a fresh roll of chest bindings and a dagger. It was quick work, cut, tug, wrap. My dream haunted me, lurking in the back of my mind, but I focused on my task. I wrapped my chest extra tight, I didn't need for them to get in the way during battle. Or be discovered as a women, how embarrassing.

I put the tunic over my head, the scratchy wool scraped gently at my skin. I let the leather fall to the floor, it was too much heat. I shivered as I remebered the jerking and groaning from the girl in my dream. It was almost like life had suddenly been snapped back to her.

"What are you doing?"

I jumped at Puck's voice, and turned to glare at him. My dream had me on edge and Puck had this odd way of moving without making a sound.

"How long have you been there?" I spat out and narrowed my eyes as he held his hands up.

"I just got here! I swears it."

"You better be."

"Yeah, anyway why are you up this late..early?" He gestured to the small window by my bed side. (Where was that last night?) Cold dew hung from the tree branch outside and the clouds glowed from hiding the sunlight.

"Nothing, it's nothing."

"If you say so. My uncle has some breakfast laid out for us. I'll wait for you in the kitchen." He turned to leave but paused, "Oh I almost forgot but uncle has some armor for us. As a thank you for going to Whiterun."

"He didn't need to." I got up and stuffed the leather into my pack. We didn't even go to Whiterun yet.

"Oh don't worry, he looks for any excuse to make something."

"Make?" I headed past him and into the kitchen. A table was laid out with sweet rolls and mead. I pulled back the chair and sat down reaching for one of the glistening sweets.

"Yeah, he's the town's only smelter. Didn't you see all his equipment? You're free to use it if you want." He grabbed a tankard of mead and downed it. It always surprised me that the Nords of Skyrim could drink mead with every meal. It explained the pot belly that seemed to be passed along genetically from father to son.

"I don't know how." I stuffed my mouth with the crumbly roll, slightly stale but there would be no chance of fresh bread in the middle of winter.

"He could teach you, he loves to talk about it."

"Yeah, maybe." I took a slight sip of the mead and grimaced at the thick flavor. Why didn't they just use it as a stew? It had the consistency of it.

"Anyway we should go meet up with my uncle so he'll give us our new armor. I requested light armor for you, hope you don't mind." He got up, a tankard of mead in hand.

"What's the difference?" I grabbed my pack and followed him to the door.

"Heavy armors heavier, light armors lighter." He chuckled and stepped out into the snow littering Riverwood's cobbled roads.

I rolled my eyes. The snow crunched under my boots, and I shivered lightly at the cold gust of wind nipping at us.

He led me to the small balcony next to his uncle's house. A pit of fire was nursed in the left side, smithing equipment scattered over the tables and wooden platform. Alvor smiled at us and gestured to the table he leaned on.

"I got your armor right here, don't know what dangers you might encounter." He grabbed a plate of iron and tossed it at Puck.

Puck caught it and stumbled back from the weight. "Thanks." His drink swished and some splattered to the floor.

He unraveled the plating and draped them over his shoulders, like the leather chaps. He buckled them in and tightened the straps keeping everything together, unlike the leather armor this one went on top of his shirt.

"And for Rach I made some studded leather, Puck told me you preferred light armor." He tossed me a folded up piece of leather, iron dots bedazzled the tan hide.

"Thanks." I gave him a smile and put on the leather armor. It was heavier, but the weight felt reassuring. I fingered one of the iron dots piercing the leather, I really hoped this armor wouldn't be necessary.

"We should get going uncle. We'll be back with a whole troop of Whiterun guards!"

Alvor smiled but his face slowly grew grave.

"I really hope so, we can't expect a Dragonborn myth to come save us. The fate of Riverwood lies in your hands Puck."

"Don't worry uncle, we won't need to rely on fairy tales."

I stood silently, feeling slightly offended that Alvor didn't mention me. But who was I fooling? If Skyrim needed a hero it wouldn't be me. I was just another face in the masses, a drop in the ocean. A girl who still clung on to the beliefs of a Dragonborn hero to save us from the dragons. But perhaps there was some truth to the lore.

XXX

I flexed my arm warily, the weight of my sword leaning on the earth. Puck crouched in front of the dead wolf carcasses, a small dagger gripped in his hand as he cut the fur off of the animals.

I turned away in disgust. I wasn't used to all this blood and gore, was this even necessary? I looked out across the white wonderland of the forest. Snow floated down gently, draping the tall evergreens with curtains of white. The cold bit into me, deep into my flesh as it mixed with the warmth from my blood.

I squinted into the snow, a hazy silhouette staggered among the snowy hills. I lifted my sword up cautiously and stepped off the road, my boot sunk into the snow and the figure paused. Two glassy blue eyes pierced into me suddenly from across the forest. I gasped and scrambled back. The eyes came to me from the back of my mind. A limp body, pale sick skin, I shuddered as the images filtered to me. Crimson blood lapped by chapped lips. My dream came to me with striking clarity.

Save me...

I dropped my sword and dashed to the figure, Puck yelled out to me but his voice sounded muffled. I waded through the waist high snow, the cold seeped into my warm layers. As I got closer the figure slowly started to distinguish, skinny arms wrapped over it's bare torso to combat the cold, pale skin but not like the one I had envisioned. It was porcelain white, like creamy moonstone. None of the rag-tag stitches littering her like veteran scars. Golden hair waved down to it's waist, clinging and heavy with snow.

I neared the figure and shrugged off the coat Puck had lent me, I held it out to her as she stared at me. Her eyes were glassy, a film over the blue orbs. I gently put the coat over her shoulders, her eyes finally seemed to focus as she gripped the coat tightly. I suddenly felt the need to protect her, like a mother would.

"Rach, what are you doing?" Puck came up to us, my sword in his hand.

I didn't know, but I couldn't just leave her. She had asked me to save her, and I felt the responsibility to uphold her request. But before I could say anything the girl spoke.

"I'm Brittany..." She sounded lost, like a child trying to understand something they couldn't. Her eyes lost their focus and I gently pushed her to the road. We followed the track I made in the snow and I sat her down at the edge of the cobble stone.

"Rach, are you sure this is a good idea?" He eyed Brittany warily and handed me my sword.

I sheathed the sword to the pouch on my back, I remembered Brittany drinking the blood of that man. There was a danger, yes, but I couldn't kill something that wanted my help. Plus it was just a dream right?

"No." I answered honestly. I pulled out some of my spare clothes and handed them to Brittany. She blinked a few time and slowly started to put the articles on.

"Well it's almost sun down, we should set up camp." Puck said.

"Ok," Whiterun wasn't that far from Riverwood to be honest, but the snow slowed us down and I wanted to make sure Brittany was well. "You gather some wood, I'll take care of Brittany."

He shrugged and rummaged through his pack for his axe. He gripped the wooden handle and nodded to me once before heading off to chop some branches.

"Have you seen my cat?"

I jumped slightly, forgetting that Brittany was capable of speech. She had seemed so reserved, almost shy about talking. For some reason I didn't think she was typically like that.

"No, I haven't seen anything but rabid wolves and snow hares." I grabbed a tie from my pack and grabbed Brittany's hair. I swept it back and tied it up into a neat ponytail. She had no issues with my sudden invasion of privacy, actually she seemed content, like a cat sleeping on a warm afternoon.

A strange look passed through her eyes and she grabbed my hand. I flinched at how cold her hands were, I tried to pull away but her grip was like steel.

"I really need to find my cat... he gets lonely... and hurt... I'm sorry...I need to go..." She slowly started to get up during her cut up sentence, her grip tightened and I whimpered at the pain. She let go of me, startled at the noise and suddenly turned to sprint into the forest. I blinked dumbfounded as she ran through the snow with practiced ease. Like a deer she sprung step to step, leaving nothing but small indents in the snow. Completely untraceable, but something inside me told me to let her be. I had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time we'd see each other.

I sat down in on the cobblestone and waited for Puck to make his appearance.

Puck came from the woods, a stack of dry logs in his hands.

"Where's she going?" He asked and prepared the firelogs. He looked up and around but Britt was long gone.

"To look for her cat?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a question but I was still a little confused by the turn of events. Puck frowned as he started a small flame and blew softly into.

"What do you mean she went looking for her cat? And you just let her?" Puck tended the fire, he pushed the logs around and occasionally glanced up at me with a questioning look. Puck had surprisingly good survival skills. It made me question what exactly his work entitled.

"Look I don't know, but what did you want me to do?" I huffed, I didn't get why Puck cared now. He was against her the minute he met her and now he's giving me shit about letting her leave. Seriously! "I can't keep her against her will!"

"Yes you can, she was completely unstable! A little snowflake like her could get her hurt in these woods!" He waved his hands around and I rolled my eyes at his antics.

I remembered the speed that she lunged at the man in my dream, I'm sure she would be fine. Besides she seemed really concerned over her cat. What was I even saying anymore? By the gods...

"Let's just go to sleep, I'm sure she'll be fine." I mumbled and tugged out my bedroll.

"Whatever." He grumbled.

I blinked into the glowing embers, awake long after Puck's deep snoring. The fire had died down, and my mind whirled with what my dream had to do with Brittany. I sighed and finally let sleep take me, hopefully she'll be ok.

XXX

The climate in Skyrim was odd. One minute we'd be trudging through snow, then we'd suddenly be hit with waves of warmth. The sun would hang high in the sky and I would be forced to shed my coat, the fields of Whiterun were bathed in soft sunlight. There was still a chilling wind but it was nothing compared to the cold near Helgen.

Puck and I walked in silence. I'm sure he was still a little peeved at me for letting Brittany go, he hadn't said a word to me since yesterday. Thank the gods for unintended miracles.

"Is that a giant?" Oh, well the silence was bliss while it lasted.

"How would I know?" I said and unsheathed my sword as we watched the lumbering form of the giant waiver through the fields. Puck better not get any ideas, attacking a bear was one thing but a giant could probably crush me with his littlest toe.

"Let's get closer, it could be attacking someone."

I was sure that was just an excuse to try to get himself killed, because if he attacked it there would be no doubt in my mind that we would both be dead. I followed Puck as he climbed over crumbling walls and into the shadow of the giant.

It stood twelve feet, weird markings engraved its skin and a grey dirty loin cloth hung from his hips. He held a club thrown over his shoulder, untamed hair sported its head like a twisted bush. His face was square, with a long nose and grey eyes watching us intently. I wasn't sure if giants were human enough to talk to, I doubt anybody would be crazy enough to try.

"Hey buddy!" Except Puck.

The giant abruptly turned away from us, completely disinterested. A better reaction than throwing us in the air at least.

"Puck we should go." I tugged his arm and he reluctantly let me pull him away.

A yell broke through the land as an arrow suddenly lodged into the giant's jaw. He roared and swung his club at us, I scrambled back pulling Puck with me. The club smashed into the earth in front of us, the earth shook slightly and I lost my balance. Facing the wrath of a giant was nothing compared to facing a dragon, but the giant wasn't afraid to get up close and personal.

Another arrow shot through the air but it missed the giant and whizzed by my ear. I flinched a second after, my actions were delayed and everything seemed to slow down around me. There was a loud ringing in my ear, it drowned out all other sounds as I watched the action unfold before me. The giant rampaged before me, it's action were slow, the world was slow. Like time was lagging in its minstrations.

I felt the familiar veil pull over my mind, pain muffled as an arrow missed it's mark and lodged into my side. I heard a cry and vaguely registered it as mine, the giant rushed up to me... no the giant didn't move, I did.

I barely realised my sword gripped tightly in my hands, I barely registered the burning pain in my side as I swung. I did however feel warm blood gush to my hand as my sword sunk into the fleshy part of the giant's knee. It yelled but stayed rooted as it's weight buckled on it's torn knee. I pulled roughly on the sword, crimson glistened in the sun and I stumbled back as fast as I could from the giant.

The giant fell back and I landed on my butt as the earth shook from his impact. Pain flared up in my side and I gripped it tightly with my hand. Warm liquid oozed onto my open palm.

"Rachel!"

I heard Puck call out to me, but the world was starting to blur. I didn't realize I was laying down until soft grass tickled my cheeks. I groaned as a head appeared over me, long blonde hair cascaded down. She had a rigid look in her eyes, but it softened as concern etched into her face begrudgingly. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. Her eyes inspected me softly, I felt exposed under her gaze but I managed to reach out my hand and cup her cheek softly. She blinked and grimaced.

Blood smeared her cheek and I frowned as I noticed the sticky warmth between my fingers. She reached up and gripped my hand to pull it away from her face, but she paused and sighed. Her hand reached out and closed my eyes, exhaustion rushed over me as the world faded. Warmth seeped into me from her touch, it was the last feeling I had before darkness overtook me

XXX

No Level Up

XXX


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